A repairman and I went into our attic the other day to check some wiring. “It’s hotter than hades up here,” Stron Johnson, the large African American man, said.
“You can go ahead and say hell, though I’d say hell’dbe worse,” I said.
“Makes you wanna be good,” Stron said.
“Problem is,” I replied as I crawled on the itchy fiberglass insulation, “none of us is good enough—only way any of us can be good is through the Lord Jesus Christ.”
“You got that right,” Stron said.
We wiped sweat from our brows, itched, and checked the wiring.